PTB 500 Word Prompt Challenge
by Ali OMalley Cat
Summary: My entries for the Project Team Beta 500 Word Prompt Challenge.
1. Weapon

**Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended. This is un-beta'd, all mistakes are mine.**

**Please vote for my entry on the Project Team Beta blog, thank you :)**

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From a young age, Bella had been aware that she was not quite normal. Other little girls used their innocently wide eyes and adorable little pouts to get what they wanted. But not Bella, she used her words. Those were her weapons. There was no whine or pleading tone to her voice. And she certainly didn't bat her lashes or, in her older years, push out her meagre breasts to get what her heart desired. No, all Bella had to do was ask.

At five years old she asked her daddy, "Daddy, I don't like mommy anymore. Make her go away, please." And by the end of the week Charlie had kicked Renee out.

At eight years old she asked her third grade teacher, "Why do _I _have to look after that smelly hamster? Why do we even need a class pet? Maybe you should just get rid of it." So Mr Whitman took Harry the hamster home and fed him to his cat.

At fourteen years old she didn't like that Lauren Mallory was getting all of the attention from the new boy. "Why don't you go play in traffic, Lauren?" And later that day Lauren did just that. They could only identify her by her dental records. With a smile on her dangerous lips, she asked the new boy, "Edward, why are you crying? She wasn't a nice person, I think you should stop." And just like that the tears in Edward's grass green eyes dried up.

At fifteen years old she was becoming increasingly frustrated that Edward had yet to kiss her. They'd held hands and cuddled a little but Bella was ready to move things forward. "Kiss me, Edward." Bella closed her eyes and puckered her lips slightly. The softness of Edward's lips sent a thrill through her body. Her nerves sparked with pleasure as she felt his tongue flick against her lower lip. Bella completely lost her breath as she opened her mouth to Edward and felt his love pour from his soul into hers.

At eighteen years old she asked Edward, "Make love to me, Edward. I want you to love me." And it was beautiful and tender. The whole night was full of gentle caresses and sweet words of love.

At twenty-six years old she was boiling with jealousy whenever Edward would talk about his co-worker. She hated the way his eyes lit up with glee whenever Tanya was mentioned. So Bella called Tanya and asked her in the most polite way possible to, "go away and die, please." And not two seconds after ending the call, Tanya leapt from her twenty-second story tall building's roof.

When Edward heard the news it didn't surprise him. He sighed in resignation; he always knew it would come to this. So with a heavy heart and sadness in his soul, Edward closed his eyes and took his own life. As the blood drained from his wrists he smiled. He was free from her words. Finally, peace.


	2. Adventureful

**Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended. This is un-beta'd, all mistakes are mine.**

**Please vote for my entry on the Project Team Beta blog, thank you :)**

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"Look, Daddy. Look how high I am!" Alice yelled from the very tops of the metal climbing frame. Her arms were stretched high above her head as she frantically waved in her father's direction, trying with all her might to gain his attention. Unfortunately for Alice she wasn't the only one trying to get his attention. Carlisle was so transfixed with the busty blonde sitting beside him that he didn't even turn his head in Alice's direction. He threw a hand in the air and waved in a "yes honey, that's nice," way, but it didn't even break his train of thought.

Alice frowned at his lack of interest. What was so fascinating about that lady? It's not like she was standing on top of the climbing frame that no other girl had been able to climb.

"You know I can see you're panties right?"

Alice looked down at the curly blonde haired boy lying on the grass below her, and scrunched up her nose. "So? They're nice panties, my Mommy said so." She folded her arms as her tone got scathing. "And anyway, boys aren't supposed to look at girl's panties, it's rude." A smug look graced her young face as she imparted her wisdom on the miscreant below her.

Jasper snorted in amusement. "Did your Mommy tell you that too?" He lifted an eyebrow in question at the funny little girl lording it above him.

"No, my Daddy."

Jasper let out a huge belly shaking, body vibrating laugh. The gleeful smile that spread across his face was so infectious that Alice couldn't help but smile back. The shine of his pearly whites was dazzling. "What's your name boy?" Alice questioned as she climbed down from her shiny castle.

"Jasper, what's yours girl?"

"Alice, but everyone calls me Ali O'Malley." The admittance of her nickname makes her blush and she ducks her chin to hide her flaming cheeks.

Jasper chuckles at her shyness. "Well, Alice, would you like to go on an adventure?"

Alice's most favourite thing to do in the whole wide world was to go on adventures. She nodded her head in excitement. With her tight black curls bouncing around her face she took Jasper's outstretched hand. With joy in their hearts and excitement in their legs the young friends ran towards the forest that circled the park.

The closer they got to the tall, imposing trees the slower Alice ran until eventually fear gripped her legs and wouldn't let her run any farther. Jasper turned back to his new friend and frowned in puzzlement when he saw she was no longer running. "What's wrong Alice? Don't you want to play?" He smiled his most reassuring smile and let the playful sparkle in his eyes shine extra bright. Alice felt her legs loosen up and her eager little feet carried her closer to Jasper and their adventure. She didn't see that his baby blues were turning red, or the three other pairs of eyes waiting for her.


	3. Procrastination

**Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended. This is un-beta'd, all mistakes are mine.**

**Word prompt: Procrastination. Please vote for my entry on the Project Team Beta blog, thank you :)**

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I'm sitting in bed with my laptop on my, well, lap, and staring at the blank screen. Okay, it's not blank it's got twenty-three words on it. Now twenty-seven, twenty-nine… you get the picture. I'm supposed to be writing five-hundred words for my English lit class, but I just cannot find any motivation. Maybe the problem is I'm trying too hard. Okay, an easy fix; I'll distract myself with something else. That's bound to get the idea's flowing and the juices pumping.

Alright, well I could paint my nails. That's always good for clearing the mind. I get up and walk over to my dresser. My box of nail varnishes is buried under a mountain on moisturisers I swore to my boyfriend that I'd used when I bought them, but not one of them is open. Maybe when I'm done painting my nails I'll organise my ever increasing moisturiser collection.

I dive into the box—once it's been dug out—and start the massive decision of what color I want. You'd think it'd be an easy decision, but no, there are so many things to factor into it. What am I doing tomorrow? What am I _wearing _tomorrow? What kind of look am I going for? How much effort do I want to put in? See, like I said, it's a massive decision.

Well I'm working tomorrow—at a clothing store—so I'll be wearing their stock. If I go for a nude color then that will match with most things. I pick out all the pale pinks and peachy colors and take them back to bed. Alright now to decide if I want to put a lot of effort in or if one quick coat is all I can be bothered to do. I check the time and it's getting kinda late, so one coat it is.

I'm down to matte pale pink, gloss pale pink or a glittery pink with gold flecks. I discard the glittery immediately because it takes so fucking long to take off. Glitter plus cotton wool is a rage inducing frustration that I try to avoid at all costs. Okay, down to the final two, which one will win? I snort to myself, it's fucking nail varnish Rose not the Xfactor! Finally I pick the gloss because I can put a clear top coat on it so it won't chip in like five seconds.

I move the brush oh so carefully over my bitten to bits nails. I'm approaching this task like my steady hand will save the world. I'm shaking like I have Parkinsons. Slowly and carefully I work my way from my thumb to my cute little pinky, and hey presto my right hand is done. My left hand doesn't go so well. I'm now shaking like I have Parkinsons _and_ I'm sitting on a washing machine that's on it's spin cycle.

After finishing, I declare myself as the reigning queen of procrastination, and get back to work… I'll just check Facebook…


	4. Hunter

**Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended. This is un-beta'd, all mistakes are mine.**

**Word prompt: Hunter. Please vote for my entry on the Project Team Beta blog, thank you :)**

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She watched him. She watched him like a lioness watches a lean gazelle graze in the sun yellow grasses of the Savannah. A triumphant smile pulls at the corner of her blood red lips when he catches her staring. If only he knew what a dangerous game she had pulled him in to, a game in which she was the master. Night after night she stalked this gender specific prey and night after night she won.

The satisfaction that radiates in her chest flushes her cheeks as she watches him approach. Silly rabbit, he doesn't realise that he is the one being hunted. Her blue eyes skim over his tall, so tall, body. Brown curls cut short to his head, tanned complexion—probably from spending all day working in the hot southern sun—eyes the same shade as her own and lips full of wicked promises. Yes he was a fine specimen.

His cocky smile tugs her own lips up; it's a reaction to the thrill of the hunt and not his supposed-to-be-alluring smile. A girlish giggles bubbles out of her hungry mouth at how easy tonight's hunt was as the mark rakes his obvious eyes over her media-perfect form. Tiny waist and killer curves match her ample bosom and golden locks. She is the very definition of this generation's vision of beauty.

Heavily muscled arms trap her between the oak bar and his hard chest. He's at least a foot taller than her making her look small and vulnerable. It's all part of her plan, her strategy. He is no match for her.

She places delicate hands with black polished nails on his rippling pectorals as she giggles and simpers over his words. Slowly, oh so slowly, they pull closer to each other. Their embrace is entirely to intimate for the public setting they're in. He doesn't even realise there are other people in the world never mind the room.

Music pumps and pulses through their system as they sway seductively in each other's arms in time to the heady beat. Bodies rub, grind and grasp as they dance themselves into a lustful frenzy. Her sinful lips whisper promises of filth and satisfaction like he's never felt before. He swallows hard and often as she grinds against his excitement. He is completely lost to her now, hypnotised by the pretty snake that wishes to devour him.

She teases him, stirring his base instincts that society has repressed. She makes him forget his manners, his morals, his mother and even his own name. He is a tightly wound hulking beast of lust and passion. If he doesn't feel her tight and hot and wet around him soon he'll surely go mad.

Seeing her prey so close to the edge triggers her own lust. Grabbing his large hand in her delicate one she leads him to her lair, dripping desperation into black lace as she saunters hand in hand with her conquest. Another successful night for an experienced hunter of men.


	5. Redhead

**Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended. This is un-beta'd, all mistakes are mine.**

**Word prompt: Redhead. Please vote for my entry on the Project Team Beta blog, thank you :)**

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It was always a redhead. Laurent heaves a sigh of frustration as he glares down at the girl. Not that it's her fault. It wasn't any of their faults that they fell for his warm smile, honest eyes and smooth charm. But still Laurent couldn't help putting his frustration on the girl instead of his brother in all but blood.

He'd been living with James almost his entire life. In and out of foster homes the two boys formed a strong bond after James saved him from a beating when he was three. Older by four years, James had taken the blame for the broken picture frame. In Laurent's impressionable mind James was a hero.

The illusion has been somewhat shattered over the years but as James continued to take beatings for Laurent the bond was forged stronger. Now at the age of thirty-one Laurent found himself irrevocably bound to James, cleaning up all his messes and caring for him just as James used to when they were kids.

And Christ did James know how to get himself into a mess. This was the third town in as many years that they'd had to move to because of James and his love for women he couldn't, or rather shouldn't, have. Laurent balls his hands into fists at the thought of moving again, they'd only been here two months, he hadn't even fully unpacked yet!

Pushing away the frightening thought that James is getting worse, he glances around the dingy motel room trying to decide what needs to be cleaned first. The bed, always start with the bed. So he pulled the yellow rubber gloves up over his hands and right up to his elbows in a practiced manner. This wasn't his first clean up.

Finally when every inch of the roach infested room had been scrubbed, save for the patch of stained carpet the girl was lying on, he turned his attention to the girl. As Laurent stared down James whispered in his head, "I know you're disappointed, brother, but I just couldn't help myself."

Laurent sighs, defeat sullying his tone. "You didn't even try to stop, did you?"

James lets out a harsh laugh, the sound falling from Laurent's mouth. "You know me well. Aww come on now don't look so glum." Seeing that his words aren't doing anything to lift his brother's smile James' face drops a little. "Are you really that mad at me? I'm sorry okay. I just had to have her. Look at all of that creamy skin, not a blemish on her. And that fiery hair, ungf, perfection."

Laurent looks over the naked body of the dead girl, noting the purple hand print forming around her alabaster neck, and heaves another sigh.

When the girl is bundled away in the trunk, tied up tight in the dirty bedding, and Laurent is behind the wheel he stares into the rear view mirror, seeing James looking back at him, and asks, "Where to this time, brother?"


	6. Dimples

**Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended. This is un-beta'd, all mistakes are mine.**

******Word prompt: Dimples. Please vote for my entry on the Project Team Beta blog, thank you :)**

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I'm overflowing. My heart and soul are filling with love and wonder. A sense of peace, of rightness, settles over me, in me. An overwhelming urge to protect what's mine undermines my sense of reason, and fear grips my pumped-full-of-love heart when she's taken from me. I watch with the eyes of a hawk as they test her for this and that. Her screams for me create fissures of agony in my heart.

Finally they're gone. "It's just you and me now, kidda." I stare down at her and all that pinkness makes me smile so wide. Face splitting in two and love pouring from my watery eyes. Pink skin matches plump little pink lips. A rosy blush stains the pinkness of her chubby cheeks while her tiny little pink fingers explore her brand-new-to-the-world face. I chuckle as the impossibly large yawn she possesses exposes the tiniest pink tongue.

No one warned me about this, about this surge of emotion that threatens to pull me apart. Threatens to rip me wide open with every new thing she does. Her sleepy whimpers and contented sighs gut me, leaving me feeling equal parts inadequate and the most important person in the world. Everything I've ever felt before now drains away in a gush of awe, quickly replaced by the heightened emotions she gives me.

When I see those beautiful bright blues for the first time a river of love rushes from my heart and falls hard and fast from my eyes, soaking both of our cheeks. How can someone so tiny be so perfect? The wondrous feeling of being a mother continues to grow with every second, and I'm positive it won't stop until I'm drowning in it. I'm so full of you little one, there'll never be room for anyone else.

Love. Until this day I had never known the meaning of it. "You, little girl with the fluffy wisps of hair on top of that so soft head, are the very definition of love." No one can ever make me feel the way she does when she grips my finger so tight in that tiny little fist. No one will ever make me feel as needed as she did when she latched onto me oh so perfectly. And no one will ever make me feel as loved or as needed as she did when she would only settle in my arms.

She gurgles and wriggles in my arms, finding herself as she stares up at me. This is perfection. This is paradise. "Home will forever be you baby girl." I laugh at all of those people who thought they'd found love. They haven't found shit, not compared to this. And I send the new mothers coming in a knowing look because soon they will feel what I do.

She smiles at me, they say it's just wind but I know it's a smile just for me, and there it is, hiding in her cheek is the most perfect little dimple.


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